


Routine

by pi_meson



Series: Taking things slowly [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Not Underage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-17 16:17:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10597662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pi_meson/pseuds/pi_meson
Summary: Yurio is tired of everyone treating him like a child. Otabek is more than willing to help him out with a demonstration of his maturity. On the ice, of course.Afterwards, Yurio and Otabek have a few things to discuss about their relationship.





	1. Chapter 1

Yurio and Otabek sat back to back on the narrow bench, leaning on one another, waiting to go on the ice to show Yakov progress on their routine. Otabek caught Victor watching them and held his gaze steady until Victor looked away, distracted by something Yuuri was trying to show him, a suggested change to their choreography, while Georgi and Mila practised lifts at the far end of the rink. Coach Yakov and Lilia bickered gently just inside the doorway. Otabek half turned his head.  
"Are you ready to put on a show?"  
Yurio sniggered. "Let's prove that Victor and the piggy don't have a monopoly on eros!"

They stood and walked to the ice, gliding into separate warm up routines in their training clothes as Yuuri received a hug from Victor and a growl from Yakov for taking too long to leave the ice clear for Yurio's rehearsal. Mila and Georgi left the ice too and leaned against the rail to watch. Lilia smiled at her darling boy, ignoring Yakov, who grumbled that Otabek's presence was a distraction the teenager could do without. Yurio called for music, the CD labelled _caprice,_ and Georgi slid the disk into the old portable stereo, a boom-box that had been all the rage three decades ago and embarrassed Yurio just by existing.

Lilia frowned. The music that blasted from the ageing speakers certainly was not the arrangement of variations on the theme of a Paganini caprice she had chosen for her angelic-featured pupil to dance to in a playful display of technical brilliance. Yurio rocketed into position, shucked his training jacket off his shoulders, looked behind him and winked at Otabek then peeled the garment off, tossing it away to reveal a loose vest underneath that flowed and flapped as he moved, exposing hints of pale skin. Lilia grabbed Yakov's arm to stop him from hitting eject. This was something she had to see.

\-----

At the end of the routine, Yakov seemed unable to close his mouth and Lilia's grip was iron on his wrist. Mila cheered something about _our Yuratchka all grown up!_ and clapped. Georgi stared, leaning half-over the barrier he clung to with desperation. Yuuri smiled, warm face showing no sign of shock or surprise. Victor let out a long, low whistle. Unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of Yurio on the ice and Otabek skating up to him with a smile playing at the corners of his lips, Victor leaned sideways toward Yuuri.  
"Yuuri, did you know about this?"  
"Mm," Yuuri nodded. "Yurio asked me not to tell. They've been practicing early when the rink is empty."

Victor did not reply. Otabek reached Yurio and held out his hands. Yurio took hold, pivoted as if still dancing, fitted his back against Otabek and wrapped Otabek's arms around himself in a fluid movement. Otabek laughed when Yurio reached up and behind to stroke his cheek, then he leaned in and kissed the junction where Yurio's bared shoulder met his neck. Breaking the moment with a giggle, Yurio shimmied out of the embrace and skated to the side of the rink, pausing to retrieve his melt-soaked jacket. Otabek followed, smiling, eyes fixed firmly on Yurio's back.

"Did you SEE their FACES!" Yurio turned and crowed as soon as they entered the changing room. "I bet they are talking about it."  
"Mmhmm," Otabek nodded his reply. "I think you made your point. Want to get food then come back to practise the Paganini?"  
Yurio's reply was cut off by Yakov's bellow through the door. "Otabek! Help Mila practise. Georgi has to sit out for a while."  
Otabek nodded at Yakov and left the changing room. Yakov entered and sat opposite Yurio.  
"That was surprising. Lilia said–"  
"So what?" Yurio frowned. "I can dance any way I want."  
"Let me finish, will you? Lilia likes it! It needs some polish on the combinations and you could improve the step sequence, but I think it's going to be, hah, good enough! Just... be careful, my Yuratchka. Otabek seems like a nice boy but he's older than you."  
Yurio glared at his coach. "So?"  
"Well." Yakov pursed his lips and frowned. "Sometimes you look at Otabek the way you used to look at Vitya. Your new hero might want more from you than you are ready to give. He's too old for you."  
Yakov stood but he was not fast enough to escape Yurio's indignant fury.

Meanwhile, Otabek skated over to Mila but found himself intercepted by Victor.  
"So!" Victor looked Otabek up and down. "You've been helping Yuri find his eros. That was hot!"  
"Mm?" Otabek faced Victor.  
"It's hard to see little Yuri like that. He's only just turning sixteen, you know." Victor's eyebrow raised as he watched Otabek's face. "Still a kid."  
"Mm." Otabek nodded. "I'm invited to his birthday party too."  
Victor frowned and bit his lip. Otabek waited. Victor sighed and gestured at the gap in the barrier. They skated over and off the ice while Mila practised alone.  
"Yurio's a few years younger than you, Otabek. You need to remember that when you are with him."  
Otabek decided to push Victor, see how far he would go before abandoning this awkward interchange. He put on a puzzled expression. "What do you mean, Victor?"  
"I mean," Victor rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air. Otabek almost laughed at the very _Yurio_ -like mannerism. "That he's not old enough for a mature relationship yet. I think you should back off. I don't want his heart broken."  
"Oh." Otabek nodded. "I'll ask Yurio what he thinks of that idea. He is old enough to make his own decisions."

The yell from the changing room broadcast Yurio's position on outside interference in his relationships with crystalline clarity. Yakov emerged with his face set hard and poked a finger at Victor.  
"You were mistaken, Victor. It's not our Yuratchka who is at risk of a broken heart." Yakov offered Otabek a sympathetic glance. "Are you sure you can handle the little demon?"  
Otabek merely smiled, nodded his goodbye to Victor and went into the changing room where Yurio stood with his hands over his face, shaking slightly.  
"Are you okay?" Otabek put his arm around Yurio's shoulders. Yurio revealed his face, red and wet-eyed with the exertion of throwing a tantrum at his coach, but at the same time wearing the biggest grin Otabek had seen and holding back giggles. Otabek laughed silently and enveloped Yurio in a hug.

The door squeaked open and another voice called through.  
"Guys?" Yuuri's face peered around, then the rest of Yuuri followed once he had made sure he wasn't interrupting anything too personal. He held out a small cloth bag. "Yurio? Lilia says come and show her your routine again but this time put your hair up and wear these."  
Yurio upended the bag over his hand and frowned.  
"Sunglasses?"


	2. Chapter 2

Yurio kept up his hot exhibition act until he was clear of the ice, free of his fans' prying and safe in the security-controlled area that comprised the changing rooms and concrete corridor that led between the ice and the outside world. He whooped and grinned, still breathing hard, heart thumping and an odd feeling in his core. He sat on a slatted bench to put guards on his blades. Otabek sat beside him, leaning back and smiling.

"I think they liked the show. You're probably all over Instagram already."  
"Ha!" Yurio rummaged in his holdall for his phone. Sure enough, it seemed like the entire internet lit up with pictures and comments. Some of the contributions made him smile, some made him blush, and the rest he read with a horrified expression. Otabek laughed.  
"You can have your choice of cute fans now. Walk out of here with one of your angels on each arm."  
The thought made Yurio shudder. "That's disgusting!" he yelled at Otabek, who was still grinning. "I would NEVER date any of my fans!"  
Otabek picked up his holdall, stood and offered Yurio his hand to help him up. "But I'm your fan," he pointed out. "You mean you wouldn't date me?"  
Yurio's stomach did something, his pulse raced and he scowled at Otabek to hide the heat in his cheeks. "Quit joking around. Are you going to help me out of my costume or not?"  
"No'" replied Otabek, regretting his careless joke, pulling zipper-ankled joggers and a hoody over his own costume. "We are all expected back on the ice for the finale so there's no point changing."

Yurio decided that if he was still in view then he was still on show. He put on his pink jacket and the sunglasses and walked past Otabek, back in to watch the rest of the exhibition. Victor and Yuuri were on and Yurio muttered angrily to Otabek that he might barf. He chose a vacant row, sat back and stretched his arms out across the backs of the seats beside him. Otabek shook his head and tutted.  
"Are you doing this just to annoy Yakov?"  
"It's an act. Play along or go sit somewhere else."  
Otabek leaned back and frowned. "Have I upset you?"  
"What?" Yurio looked at Otabek's profile and sighed. "No. Sorry. I'm just... that routine took a lot out of me. It made me... Oh, whatever."  
In response, Otabek offered Yurio an energy drink from his bag and a friendly pat on the knee, and they sat in silence to watch the last ice-dance of the exhibition.

Christophe joined them with a grin, a wink and a laugh. He sat on the chair on the other side of Yurio. Yurio moved his arm away.  
"He-ey! You beat me to the medals and then you put on the sexiest act in living memory! I thought the ice would melt! Your fans will be on fire! Next season promises to be interesting."  
Christophe laughed again and Yurio shuffled just a little closer to Otabek. Fortunately it was almost time for the finale and all the performers gathered, shedding outer layers, removing the guards from their blades and gliding out into position to rousing applause.

It was over. The changing rooms thundered and buzzed with excited, exhausted chatter and shrieks from the showers when the hot water ran out. Costumes were stuffed into holdalls, skates packed into carriers and Otabek, as good as his word, helped Yurio ease off his skates and peel off his tight pants. He smiled at the transformation as he told Yurio _close!_ and wiped a make-up remover pad gently around his eyes. The confident, provocative act was gone. Otabek gently pulled the hair tie from Yurio's head and teased out the tangles with his fingers. Yurio looked at Otabek, holding his gaze for a few seconds until Otabek ruffled Yurio's hair, smiled and looked away. They left the changing room and wandered up the corridor to the exit, Yurio's hand slipping into Otabek's and only separating when the security guard went to open the exit for them.

Yuri's Angels were waiting for him by the exit. He just had time to see Victor and Yuuri chatting with an interviewer before his line of vision was obscured by autograph books and photographs ready for his signature. Otabek was not excluded from Yurio's Hell, it seemed that some of the madness had transferred to him by association and he awkwardly frowned in selfies, grunted acknowledgements to calls of his name and signed only with his initials. As he followed Yurio into a car, comments about what a perfect couple they made, and therefore how heartbroken some of Yurio's most ardent angels were, had already hit the internet. Yurio groaned at his screen.  
"Beka, let's go out. That club again?"  
Otabek sighed. "Yuri, you're fifteen."  
"So?" Yurio scowled at Otabek, "I got in before, didn't I?"  
Otabek saw no point in arguing and, right now, being with Yurio somewhere public, dancing, seemed like a good idea. They agreed to meet in the hotel lobby in half an hour, eat then slip into the club before it got so busy that the bouncers started looking for reasons not to let people in. 

Otabek and Yurio met Christophe and a few other skaters in the line for entry. Only Phitchit was asked to provide proof of age, which he did with a laugh and a comment of _Every time! Guys, I'm twenty!"_ Yurio slipped through the door beside Otabek, hood up and head down. Otabek was recognised almost immediately, offered drinks, pulled away from the group, but he smiled, shrugged and stayed close to his friend. Unnoticed by him, someone approached the DJ and passed them a note. 

The opening chords of the track were unmistakeable. Somehow the dancefloor cleared a big enough space and Yurio leapt into the centre, more and more people watching as they realised what was happening. Otabek felt heat prickle at the back of his neck, but when Yurio looked round at him, tossed his jacket and beckoned he saw no alternative but to join in the show. If anything, the display was even hotter off the ice. Otabek threw dramatic, smouldering looks at Yurio and Yurio responded with posturing that belied his balletic training, suggesting something far more erotic. The onlookers whistled when it was over, and Yurio and Otabek stood staring at one another in the kind of bubble that comes when one thing, one thought only, the idea of an action, crowds out all others. Otabek was on the point of grabbing Yurio's hand and pulling him away when the mood was broken, trampled by a black-clad bouncer who handed Yurio his jacket back and addressed him in a gruff voice.  
"I.D.?"

Yurio complained about the unfairness and insisted that he was okay to go back to the hotel by himself but Otabek followed him out into the street anyway. Yurio walked quickly, demanding angrily if there were any other decent clubs around but Otabek pointed out that word would have got out that he was underage and they would not be allowed in anywhere. Yurio halted and Otabek almost walked into him. They were by the harbour and it was quiet, cold despite the blanket of cloud that hid the stars and reflected the glow from the streetlights, and Yurio shivered.  
"I just wanted..." he started then abandoned his thought.  
"I know. So did I but..." Otabek put his arm around Yurio's shoulders, rubbed and squeezed. Yurio hissed angrily.  
"You think I'm not old enough."  
"You're fifteen."  
"Only for another three months. You're only three and a half years older than me."  
"Mm."  
"That's less than the difference between Victor and the piglet."  
"Mm but Yuuri's not fifteen."  
"OKAY! I GET IT!" Yurio pushed Otabek away and stormed off.

Otabek followed a few steps behind as Yurio marched back to the hotel, not attempting to intrude in Yurio's foul mood, hoping the walk would ease his temper. His own thoughts were clear: _you're his friend, you're just friends, nothing else._ In the lobby, Otabek caught up.  
"Yuri."  
Yurio scowled. "What do you want?"  
"We're friends. We're too alike not to be friends."  
Yurio sighed and pushed the button to call the elevator. They stood in awkward silence until the doors opened with a _bing!_ , they stepped inside and Otabek waited for the doors to close again before speaking.  
"Don't reject me as a friend because I can't be your boyfriend yet."  
"WHAAT?" Yurio glared at Otabek, furious. Otabek looked away, studying Yurio's profile in the mirrored side wall of the elevator.  
"Isn't that what you're doing?"  
The doors opened and both stepped out. Otabek put his hand on Yurio's arm. Yurio wouldn't look at him, shook off the hand and walked away. Otabek pressed his lips into a tight line and went in the opposite direction to his own room. 

Forty minutes later there was a light tap at Otabek's door, then a heavier thump when he ignored it. He got up, irritated, to answer it.  
"Yuri!"  
"Are you going to invite me in or not?"  
Yurio glared from beneath the hood of his robe. Otabek suppressed a smile. The robe had cat ears and whiskers on the hood and he saw why Victor called Yurio _angry kitten._ He held the door and stepped back. Yurio walked in and sat on the bed, grabbing the TV remote and channel hopping. He spoke quietly, as if addressing the TV.  
"I can wait."  
"Mm?"  
"Three months. You said you wouldn't be my boyfriend _yet._ I can wait three months." Yurio looked at Otabek, expression neutral. "Watch a stupid movie with me. Friends can make out a little, right?"  
Otabek weighed up the options. One part of his brain said throw him out, break his heart now and let him hate you for a while. But the part that had made him weep in the shower over having lost a friend won. Otabek settled beside Yurio, took his hand, accepted a kiss on the cheek and a head on his shoulder.  
"Fine. But I choose the movie."


End file.
